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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538820" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>In Arthur's House</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">In Arthur's house whileome was I<br>When happily the time went by<br>In midmost glory of his days.<br>He held his court then in a place<br>Whereof ye shall not find the name<br>In any story of his fame:<br>Caerliel good sooth men called it not,<br>Nor London Town, nor Camelot;<br>Yet therein had we bliss enow.<br>--Ah, far off was the overthrow<br>Of all that Britain praised and loved;<br>And though among us lightly moved<br>A love that could but lead to death,<br>Smooth-skinned he seemed, of rosy breath,<br>A fear to sting a lady's lip,<br>No ruin of goodly fellowship, <br>No shame and death of all things good.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Forgive the old carle's babbling mood;<br>As here I sit grey-haired and old,<br>My life gone as a story told,<br>Ye bid me tell a story too;<br>And then the evil days and few, <br>That yet were overlong for me<br>Rise up so clear I may not see<br>The pictures of my minstrel lore.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Well hearken! on a day of yore<br>From prime of morn the court did ride<br>Amidmost of the summertide<br>To search the dwellings of the deer<br>Until the heat of noon was near;<br>Then slackening speed awhile they went<br>Adown a ragged thorn-bushed bent<br>At whose feet grew a tangled wood<br>Of oak and holly nowise good:<br>But therethrough with some pain indeed<br>And rending of the ladies' weed<br>They won at last, and after found<br>A space of green-sward grown around<br>By oak and holly set full close;<br>And in the midst of it arose<br>Two goodly sycamores that made<br>A wide and little sun-pierced shade<br>About their high boles straight and green:<br>A fount was new-born there-between,<br>And running on as clear as glass,<br>Flowed winding on amid the grass<br>Until the thick wood swallowed it.<br>A place for happy folk to sit<br>While the hot day grew hotter still<br>Till eve began to work his will.<br>--So might those happy people think<br>Who grudged to see the red sun sink<br>And end another day of bliss<br>Although no joy tomorn should miss --<br>They laughed for joy as they drew nigh<br>The shade and fount: but lo, thereby<br>A man beside the fountain laid<br>The while his horse 'twixt sun and shade<br>Cropped the sweet grass: but little care<br>Had these of guile or giant's lair,<br>And scarce a foot before the Queen<br>Rode Gawain o'er the daisied green<br>To see what man his pleasure took;<br>Who rose up in meanwhile and shook<br>His tangled hair aback, as one<br>Who e'en but now his sleep hath done.<br>Rough-head and yellow-haired was he<br>Great-eyed, as folk have told to me,<br>And big and stout enow of limb:<br>As one who thinks no harm he smiled,<br>And cried out: "Well met in the wild,<br>Fair King and Queen; and ye withal<br>Sweet dames and damsels! Well befal<br>This day, whereon I see thee nigh,<br>O Lancelot, before I die!<br>And surely shall my heart rejoice<br>Sir Gawain, when I hear thy voice!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then Lancelot laughed: "Thou knowest us then<br>Full well among a many men?"</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"As quoth the lion to the mouse,"<br>The man said; "in King Arthur's House<br>Men are not names of men alone,<br>But coffers rather of deeds done."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Queen smiled blithe of heart, and spake:<br>"Hast thou done deeds for ladies' sake?"</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Nay Dame," he said, "I am but young;<br>A little have I lived and sung<br>And seen thy face this happy noon."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The King said: "May we hearken soon<br>Some merry tale of thee? for I<br>Am skilled to know men low and high<br>And deem thee neither churl nor fool."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Said he, "My fathers went to school<br>Where folk are taught a many things,<br>But not by bliss: men called them kings<br>In days when kings were near to seek;<br>But as a long thread waxeth weak,<br>So is it with our house; and now<br>I wend me home from oaken bough<br>Unto a stead where roof and wall<br>Shall not have over far to fall<br>When their last day comes."<br>As he spake<br>He reddened: "Nathless for their sake,<br>Whom the world loved once, mock not me<br>O King, if thence I bring to thee<br>A morsel and a draught of wine,<br>Though nothing king-like here thou dine."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of some kind word King Arthur thought,<br>But ere he spake the woodman caught<br>His forest-nag and leapt thereon,<br>And through the tangled brake was gone.<br>Then leapt the King down, glad at heart,<br>Thinking, This day shall not depart<br>Without some voice from days that were;<br>And lightly leapt down Guenevere,<br>And man and maid lay presently<br>Neath the bee-laden branches high,<br>And sweet the scent of trodden grass<br>Amid the blossoms' perfume was.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There long they lay, and little spake,<br>As folk right loth the calm to break;<br>Till lo upon the forest-breeze<br>A noise of folk, and from the trees<br>They came: the first-seen forester,<br>A grizzled carle in such-like gear,<br>And then two maidens poorly clad<br>Though each a silver chaplet had<br>And round her neck a golden chain:<br>And last two varlets led a wain<br>Drawn by white oxen well bedight<br>With oaken boughs and lilies white;<br>Therein there lay a cask of wine<br>And baskets piled with bread full fine,<br>And flesh of hart and roe and hare;<br>And in the midst upon a chair<br>Done over with a cloth of gold<br>There sat a man exceeding old<br>With long white locks: and clad was he<br>No other than his company<br>Save that a golden crown he bore<br>Full fairly fashioned as of yore,<br>And with a sword was girt about<br>Such as few folk will see I doubt.<br>Right great it was: the scabbard thin<br>Was fashioned of a serpent's skin,<br>In every scale a stone of worth;<br>Of tooth of sea-lion of the north<br>The cross was, and the blood-boot stone<br>That heals the hurt the blade hath done<br>Hung down therefrom in silken purse:<br>The ruddy kin of Niblung's curse<br>O'er tresses of a sea-wife's hair<br>Was wrapped about the handle fair;<br>And last a marvellous sapphire stone<br>Amidst of the great pommel shone,<br>A blue flame in the forest green.<br>And Arthur deemed he ne'er had seen<br>So fair a sword: nay not when he<br>The wonder of the land-locked sea<br>Drew from the stone that Christmas-tide.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now forth the forest youth did ride,<br>Leapt down beside the King, and spake:<br>"King Arthur for thy greatness' sake<br>My grandsire comes to look on thee;<br>My father standeth here by me;<br>These maidens are my sisters twain;<br>My brethren draw out from the wain<br>Somewhat thy woodland cheer to mend."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thereat his sire the knee did bend<br>Before the King, who o'er the brown<br>Rough sleeve of the man's homespun gown<br>Beheld a goodly golden ring:<br>And fell to greater marvelling<br>When he beheld how fine and fair<br>The woodman's kneeling sisters were.<br>And all folk thereby deemed in sooth<br>That (save indeed the first seen youth)<br>These folk were nobler e'en than those<br>Of Arthur's wonder of a house.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But now the elder drew anigh,<br>By half a head was he more high<br>Than Arthur or than Lancelot,<br>Nor had eld bent him: he kneeled not<br>Before the King, but smiling took<br>His hands in hands that nowise shook;<br>And the King joyed as he who sees<br>One of his fathers' images<br>Stand glad before him in a dream.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then down beside the bubbling stream<br>They sat together, and the King<br>Was loth to fall a questioning;<br>So first the elder spake and said:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"It joys me of thy goodlihead<br>O great king of our land; and though<br>Our blood within thee doth not flow,<br>And I who was a king of yore<br>May scarcely kneel thy feet before,<br>Yet do I deem thy right the best<br>Of all the kings who rule the West.<br>I love thy name and fame: behold,<br>King Arthur, I am grown so old<br>In guilelessness, the Gods have sent,<br>Be I content or uncontent,<br>This gift unto my latter days<br>That I may see as through a haze<br>The lives and deeds of days to come:<br>I laugh for some, I weep for some --<br>I neither laugh nor weep for thee,<br>But trembling through the clouds I see<br>Thy life and glory to the end;<br>And how the sweet and bitter blend<br>Within the cup that thou must drink.<br>Good is it that thou shalt not shrink<br>From either: that the afterdays<br>Shall still win glory from thy praise<br>And scarce believe thee laid asleep<br>When o'er thy deeds the days lie deep."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He ceased but his old lips moved still,<br>As though they would the tale fulfil<br>His heart kept secret: Arthur's eyes<br>Gleamed with the pride that needs would rise<br>Up from his heart, and low he said:<br>"I know the living by the dead<br>I know the future by the past."<br>Wise eyes and kind the elder cast<br>Upon him; while a nameless fear<br>Smote to the heart of Guenevere,<br>And, fainting there, was turned to love:<br>And thence a nameless pain did move<br>The noble heart of Lancelot,<br>The store of longing unforgot.<br>-- And west a little moved the sun<br>And noon began, and noon was done.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But as the elder's grey eyes turned<br>On Guenevere's, her sweet face burned<br>With sweet shame; as though she knew<br>He read her story through and through.<br>Kindly he looked on her and said:<br>"O Queen, the chief of goodlihead,<br>Be blithe and glad this day at least<br>When in my fathers' house ye feast:<br>For surely in their ancient hall<br>Ye sit now: look, there went the wall<br>Where yon turf ridge runs west-away:<br>Time was I heard my grand-dame say<br>She saw this stream run bubbling down<br>The hall-floor shut in trench of stone;<br>Therein she washed her father's cup<br>That last eve e'er the fire went up<br>O'er ridge and rafter and she passed<br>Betwixt the foeman's spears the last<br>Of all the women, wrapping round<br>This sword the gift of Odin's ground."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He shook the weapon o'er his knee,<br>Thereon gazed Arthur eagerly.<br>"Draw it, my lord," quoth Guenevere,<br>"Of such things have we little fear<br>In Arthur's house." And Lancelot rose<br>To look upon the treasure close.<br>But grimly smiled the ancient man:<br>"E'en as the sun arising wan<br>In the black sky when Heimdall's horn<br>Screams out and the last day is born,<br>This blade to eyes of men shall be<br>On that dread day I shall not see --"<br>Fierce was his old face for a while:<br>But once again he 'gan to smile<br>And took the Queen's slim lily hand<br>And set it on the deadly brand<br>Then laughed and said: "Hold this, O Queen,<br>Thine hand is where God's hands have been,<br>For this is Tyrfing: who knows when<br>His blade was forged? Belike ere men<br>Had dwelling on the middle-earth.<br>At least a man's life is it worth<br>To draw it out once: so behold<br>These peace-strings wrought of pearl and gold<br>The scabbard to the cross that bind<br>Lest a rash hand and heart made blind<br>Should draw it forth unwittingly."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Blithe laughed King Arthur: "Sir," said he,<br>"We well may deem in days by gone<br>This sword, the blade of such an one<br>As thou hast been, would seldom slide<br>Back to its sheath unsatisfied.<br>Lo now how fair a feast thy kin<br>Have dight for us and might we win<br>Some tale of thee in Tyrfing's praise,<br>Some deed he wrought in greener days,<br>This were a blithesome hour indeed."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Sir," said the elder, "little need<br>To pray me hereof. Please ye dine<br>And drink a cup of woodman's wine,<br>Surely meantime some tale shall stir<br>Within my heart of days that were."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then to their meat they gat and there<br>Feasted amid the woodland fair<br>The fairest folk of all the land.<br>Ah me when first the Queen's fair hand<br>Drew near the kneeling forest youth<br>New-wrought the whole world seemed in sooth<br>And nothing left therein of ill.<br>So at the last the Queen did fill<br>A cup of wine, and drank and said:<br>"In memory of thy fathers dead<br>I drink, fair lord, drink now with me<br>And then bethink thee presently<br>Of deeds that once won prize and praise<br>The glory of thy fathers' days."<br>He drank and laughed and said," Nay, nay,<br>Keep we the peace-strings whole today.<br>This draught from where thy lips have been<br>Within mine old heart maketh green<br>The memory of a love full true,<br>The first recorded deed that drew<br>My fathers' house from dark to light.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">If thus my grandame told aright,<br>A rougher place our land was then,<br>Quoth she, than with us living men,<br>And other trees were in the wood<br>And folk of somewhat other blood<br>Than ours: then were the small-eyed bears<br>More plenty in the woodland lairs<br>Than badgers now: no holiday<br>It was to chase the wolves away,<br>Yea there were folk who had to tell<br>Of lyngworms lying on the fell,<br>And fearful things by lake and fen,<br>And manlike shapes that were not men.<br>Then fay-folk roamed the woods at noon,<br>And on the grave-mound in the moon<br>Faint gleamed the flickering treasure-flame.<br>Days of the world that won no fame,<br>Yet now, quoth she, folk looking back<br>Across the tumult and the wrack<br>And swelling up of windy lies<br>And dull fool-fashioned cruelties,<br>Deem that in those days God abode<br>On earth and shared ill times and good<br>And right and wrong with that same folk<br>Their hands had fashioned for the yoke.<br>Quoth she, of such nought tells my tale,<br>Yet saith that such as should prevail<br>In those days o'er the fears of earth<br>Must needs have been some deal of worth,<br>And saith that had ye seen a kin<br>Who dwelt these very woods within<br>Them at the least ye would have told<br>For cousins of the Gods of old.<br>Amongst all these it tells of one,<br>The goodman's last-begotten son,<br>Some twenty summers old: as fair<br>As any flower that blossomed there<br>In sun and rain, and strong therewith<br>And lissom as a willow withe.<br>Now through these woods amidst of June<br>This youngling went until at noon<br>From out of the thicket his fair face<br>Peered forth upon this very place;<br>For he had been a-hunting nigh<br>And wearied thought a while to lie<br>Beside the freshness of the stream.<br>But lo as in a morning dream<br>The place was changed, for there was dight<br>A fair pavilion blue and white<br>E'en where we play, and all around<br>Was talk of men and diverse sound,<br>Tinkling of bit and neigh of steed<br>Clashing of arms and iron weed.<br>For round about the painted tent<br>Armed folk a many came or went,<br>Or on the fresh grass lay about.<br>Surely our youth at first had doubt<br>If 'twere not better to be gone<br>Than meet these stranger folk alone --<br>But wot ye well such things as these<br>Were new to him born mid the trees<br>And wild things: and he thought, Maybe<br>The household of the Gods I see:<br>Who for as many tales as I<br>Have heard of them, I ne'er saw nigh.<br>If they be men, I wotted not<br>That such fair raiment men had got;<br>They will be glad to show them then.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For one thing taught these woodland men<br>Whatever wisdom they let fall<br>Men since have won Fear nought at all.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So from the holly brake he strode<br>Shouldering the while his hunter's load,<br>A new slain roe; but there arose<br>To meet him half a score of those<br>Whom in fair words he greeted well.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now was he clad in a sheep's fell <br>And at his back his quiver hung,<br>His woodknife on his thigh: unstrung<br>His bow he held in a staff's stead.<br>An oaken wreath was round his head<br>From whence his crispy locks of brown<br>Well nigh unto his belt hung down,<br>And howso frank his eyes might be<br>A half-frown soothly might you see<br>As these men handled sword or spear<br>And cried out, "Hold, what dost thou here?"<br>"Ah," said he, "then no Gods ye are.<br>Fear not, I shall not make you war."<br>Therewith his hunting-knife he drew<br>And the long blade before them he threw.<br>Then loud they laughed; one sheathed his sword:<br>"Thanks, army-leader, for that word!<br>We are not Gods e'en as thou say'st,<br>Nor thou a devil of the waste<br>But e'en a devil's a friend belike."<br>Something [of] hate hereat did strike<br>Unto the woodsman's unused heart,<br>Yet he spake softly for his part:<br>"What men are ye and where dwell ye?<br>What is the wondrous house I see?"<br>"In the fair southland is our home<br>Yet from the north as now we come,"<br>Said one: then with a mocking smile,<br>"And in our house there dwells awhile<br>A very Goddess of the north.<br>But lo you, take a thing of worth<br>For that thy quarry, and begone."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But as he spake another one<br>Spake softly in his ear: and so<br>The word from this to that did go,<br>With laughing that seemed nowise good<br>Unto the dweller of the wood,<br>Who saying nought moved toward the tent.<br>But they came round him as he went<br>And said: "Nay, pagan, stay thy feet;<br>Thou art not one our dame to greet</div><div style="margin:10px 0">. . .</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Morris">William Morris</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538820" data-title="In Arthur's House de William Morris" data-description="In Arthur's house whileome was I When happily the time went by In midmost glory of his days. He held his court then in a place Whereof ye shall not find the name In any story of his fame: Caerliel good sooth men called it not, Nor London Town, nor..."></div> </div> </div>
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